Lab Rats
by mishshoni
Summary: I was no longer a person, a living breathing human being, but rather, a test subject. We all were. We had all committed some serious crime or another, and by unlucky selection, it was us nine that they made into lab rats. We all know that now, but, in the end, knowing makes the difference. Knowing has given us the grand chance of escape. And that is exactly what we're going to do.


**The first chapter of who knows how many... Anyway, leave a review, this is my first fanfic on the site. Don't expect the next one too fast, these take me a while to write.**

**Chapter 1**

_He was cold._

That was the first thing that crossed his mind . It was freezing cold. He shivered, not opening his eyes, and pulled his legs tighter to his chest. Why was it so dam cold? He was use to that sort of thing usually, but today... His skin felt more sensitive. It was like he was sleeping outside.

Carefully, he opened one eye, just a little bit, only to be knocked back by what seemed to be a wall of light flying at him. He screwed his eyes tightly together, trying not to cringe in pain. He was above that, after all, with what he went through every day, countless times.

He opened one eye again, hesitating a little more this time. Once again, he was attacked by the onslaught of blinding light, although it was a little more bearable this time. He tried, against his better judgement, to keep his eye open this time, forcing the other eye to accompany its partner's suffering.

Slowly, as his eyes adjusted, he could make out his surroundings. He appeared to be in some sort of tiny aqua blue room, and reaching out a shaking hand, he lightly brushed his sensitive fingertips against the glossy surface of the walls. _Glass._ He quickly realized, drawing his hand away. He was in a giant glass tube. Numb and shaking, he lifted his head off the metal floor slowly, wincing with how difficult it was. His entire body was throbbing in agony, and he twisted to lay on his back, wishing he could stretch out without the tube restricting him. He was suddenly aware of a strange blueish-gray liquid, settled in a shallow pool in the bottom of the tube and that he was soaking wet. Dreamily, he stared up at the metallic ceiling, his sight fuzzing, and he slowly let himself drift into unconscious.

When he awoke again, he felt much better, although he was still freezing, along with the fact that his stomach was moaning angrily for food. He sat up, shivering, and glanced about. He had no memory of how he had gotten in this odd tube, or why he would even agree to be in some place that was so alone and cold and wet. Looking about him, having to squint as his glasses were who knows where, he noticed for the first time a enormous white jagged line that suggested a crack running down one side of the tube. Curiously, he stood to take a closer look. The glass was opaque, and the crack was too thin to see through, so he gave up after a while. He sat back down, drawing his legs closer to his chest to conserve heat, and watched his refection boredly. Loneliness came about rather suddenly, which surprised him, as he was a natural loner. "You are pathetic." he said to himself, then blinked, startled to how good it felt to hear a voice, any voice. His own voice was hoarse from misuse, but he kept talking, trying to think of anything but the isolation that loomed over him.

Something had to be done soon, he was either going to freeze or die from thirst in here. He thrust his hands against the cracking glass, excitement growing in his chest when it groaned and creaked loudly. Pushing with all his strength, he managed to make the white chasm crawl across the glass a little more. Finally, he backed up and rammed the surface, gasping as the entire panel around him shattered and he fell through it. He tried to catch his footing by force of habit, and landed upright, only to find his feet slid out from under him as he hit the ground. He landed on his side hard, and his breath emptied from his lungs.

Gasping for breath as he was showered with broken glass, he adjusted quickly to his surroundings. He was in a simple white room, the now broken glass tube lay encased in one of the walls. The unusual blue-gray liquid he had found at the bottom of the tube was washed out all over the floor in huge puddles, along with shattered bits of broken glass. Other then that, there was a dusty old desk siting in the corner with a still turned on laptop, which he approached carefully. The screen was blank, aside from text at the top that read ERROR: 006. Curious, he pressed a key, but nothing happened except the message flashing a few times.

As it was in his judgement not to linger too long, he quickly exited the room, which led into a boring grey hallway. The hallway was a mess, paper and parts of the ceiling lying all over. He skittered to the first door he saw, opening it quickly, and entering to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun. Catching a yell of shock in his throat, he reacted with years of practice, knocking the barrel away from his person and lurching forward, gripping his attacker's head and twisting sharply until he heard a crack. Gasping, he dropped the now limp body.

The now dead person was wearing a black suit that had bold white text across the chest, reading guard, along with a heavy black helmet. Blood began flowing from the dead body's neck, and forgetting his shock, he leaned in to deeply inhale the intoxicating scent. He had a profound obsession with blood, the way it smelled and felt. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and refocused, noticing that the room appeared to be... _a closet?_ _What was a guard doing in a closet?_ He shook his head in wonderment, before poking around a bit. Stepping over the corpse, he quickly slipped on one of the uniforms that hung limply by a hanger, which was a white dress shirt, some formal brown pants, and a pair of black leather dress shoes. As an afterthought, he tossed on one of the lab coats that hung there as well, smiling to himself.

He made his way back into the trash filled hall. Picking his way around the fallen ceiling fixtures, he made his way the the next door he saw and flung it open, launching himself back warily. When no one leapt out spraying bullets, he poked his head around the door. He was greeted with an enormous pile of rubble, and his eye automatically caught sight of the person half crushed by it. He was a man, balding in what was probably his late 40's, dressed formally in a lab coat not unlike his own. "Hey!" he cried out to get the man's attention. The man's eyes where glazed in pain, but he was not dead. The glazed over look quickly turned to fear when he glanced up. "Jesus Christ, the test subject's out!" he cried out, trusting his arms up in an attempt to shield his face.

"...vhat?"  
The man sighed, putting his hands down. "Geez, screw it, I'm a dead man anyway..."  
"...but... vhere are ve? Vhat's going on?" The man narrowed his eyes.  
"I'm not suppose to talk to you, but whatever. You're in Southern California." the man paused coughed violently, screwing his face up with pain. "...in an experimental lab... There was an earthquake... lab got wreaked..."  
"That's, that's imposable..." he shook his head.  
"No, You've..." The man had another coughing fit. "You've been here longer then you think... You... really don't remember, do you? *wheeze* You really thought it was real?"  
"Thought vhat vas real? Vhat are you talking about?!" he practically shouted, the back of his hair standing on edge. The man pointed with a thumb to a filing cabinet, knocked over on it's side, before his hand fell limp to the floor.

He was dead.

Stalking over to the cabinet, he viciously ripped open the top drawer, throwing paper after paper over his shoulder, until he froze suddenly, squinting as the blurry letters of his name just barely fell into place.

Test Subject 7 (minimum report)

Oliver Ionic (Male)

Subject was convicted and labeled criminally insane. Subject came into our care in 2007. Tests underwent to insure the subject's survival before it was placed successfully into research chamber. Testing of virtual reality training program with other eight subjects from different labs began.

Testing of subject has been complete success so far. Subject has gained unusual strength and alertness through training. Subject has shown no sign of sickness or death and is completely unaware of it's physical condition.

The medic slowly sank to his knees, clutching the paper tightly. It was all fake. All of it. He slowly tipped his head up toward the ceiling. He was nothing mere then an experiment. He sat still for a while, his mind numbing. Then his eyes shot down to the now crumpled paper. Eight other subjects? "...Not all fake.." he murmured to himself, standing up. He faced the door, his face grim. There where still eight others that needed to be liberated. They needed to know the truth, and he was going to be the one to tell them.


End file.
